The Testing (The Testing 1)

As we finish with our meal, a voice over the loudspeaker says, “Phase three of Testing is now complete. Failing results will be delivered to candidates’ rooms within the hour. For those who pass, I wish you a good night’s sleep. Preparation for the final phase of Testing will begin tomorrow.”

My friends rise and head for the exit. I pretend to adjust my bag’s strap and remain seated until Brick walks past. He never looks in my direction.

For the next hour I watch the clock in my room as the minutes tick past. I hear the sound of someone crying. I flinch as footsteps come near, but no one knocks or opens my door. After the allotted time passes, the hallway grows silent. I know I have passed. I should feel joy, but as I climb into bed there is only numb fatigue and the hope that I am up to the challenge of whatever tomorrow will bring.

The morning announcement comes with the dawn. We are to bring all our belongings with us when we report for breakfast. I dress quickly and lace up my worn leather boots as a sense of dread grips my stomach. My friends are all at breakfast the next morning. We have made it to phase three, although Zandri’s red-rimmed, tired eyes and withdrawn demeanor show that success has not come without a price. I look around the room and spot Brick sitting at the back table. This time his eyes make contact. For a moment we just stare at each other. When he nods, I recognize his gratitude.

An hour passes before the loudspeaker invites us downstairs. Around the room I see people suck in air. Some, like Zandri, let out low whimpers. Others, like Tomas, look concerned but resigned. Even the cockiest like Roman show signs of fear. Yes. The Testing has exacted a price from us all and that payment isn’t over. There is still one test to go.

Dr. Barnes once again waits for us in the third-floor lecture hall. Today he is wearing a serious expression that makes everyone in the room fall silent.

“Congratulations to all of you for making it to the fourth round of Testing. There were one hundred and eight candidates in this year’s Testing class. Fifty-nine of you remain. Tomorrow will begin the longest phase of our Testing—the practical examination. University students are the future leaders of the United Commonwealth. Because some of you in this room will soon be designated as among those leaders, we believe it is necessary for you to understand fully the challenges you will face. You will travel to a nonrevitalized part of the country and be placed in a designated starting location. When the test begins, you must then find your way from that location back to Tosu City. Those who return will be given a passing grade and will qualify for the final evaluation. That evaluation will determine the candidates who will attend the University.”

Terror. That’s the only word I can think of to describe what I feel. Alone in an unfamiliar part of the country. Or not alone. Not really. Animals. War-fallout mutations of animals that were once harmless but are no longer. And drifters—those who have chosen not to join the United Commonwealth. People who believed structured governments led to the Seven Stages of War and abandoned those who sought organization. Those people might be out there, too. And just me, by myself, to face them.

“Each candidate will begin the test independent of each other. That does not mean you have to remain alone. You may choose to team up with other candidates. You may also choose to impair the progress of your fellow candidates in order to ensure that you obtain a passing grade before them. What choices you make during the test will be considered in your final evaluations.”

Tomas takes my hand and holds it tight. The pressure of his fingers and the implied support calm me enough to focus. If I am going to pass this test, I need to focus.

A screen descends behind Dr. Barnes. A map flickers on the screen. At the bottom left corner of the map is a silver star. Next to the star are the words Tosu City. On the top right is a large black star next to a blue body of water. The black star is labeled Start. Aside from the stars, the one body of water, and the name of Tosu City, the only detail provided on the map are two lines—one red and one blue. The red runs on a diagonal from just about the starting point to a few inches above the silver star. The blue line starts several inches below the starred location and runs to just south of Tosu City.

“All candidates will travel from your designated starting position through the area in between the blue and red boundaries to Tosu City. Both lines indicate fences that have been erected by Testing officials to help you understand and stay within the boundaries of the Testing area. Any candidate who leaves the Testing area at any time will be given a failing grade.

“Please do not make us enforce this rule.”

Malachi’s bloody face flashes in front of me. Ryme’s bulging, bloodshot eyes. Annalise’s now empty chair. Judging by Dr. Barnes’s serious expression and the tone of his voice, there is no doubt what penalty a failing grade will bring.

“As soon as you are dismissed, each of you will meet with a Testing official who will give you further instructions.” Dr. Barnes sighs and slowly looks around the room, letting his gaze settle on each and every candidate. “Please be safe and smart. It is my dearest hope that each and every one of you returns to Tosu City.” He straightens his shoulders and tells us to watch the screen behind him. When our symbol flashes on the screen, we are to stand and join our assigned Testing official in the hallway. He wishes us luck and then leaves the stage, walking down the aisle and out the door without a backwards glance.

The first symbol flashes on the screen and a boy down in front rises. Still holding my hand, Tomas leans over and whispers, “The starting point is Chicago.”

I think back to the map that flashed on the screen, consider the water and the distance between it and Tosu City, and nod. I’d been too stunned to recognize it from the maps we’d studied in school. Even without any additional identifying landmarks, I’m certain Tomas is right and wonder how we can use that knowledge to our advantage.

Tomas is one step ahead of me. Talking quietly in my ear, he tells me to find the tallest building still standing. Go there. He’ll meet me. If we don’t find each other in the first twenty-four hours, I’m to travel due west until I reach the fencing that is the northern boundary of the test. We’ll find each other there. Partners. We will do this together.

Two plans. Two hopes that I will not have to travel hundreds of miles on my own. I nod and squeeze his hand to show him that I agree, that I will do my best to find him, as a symbol of an eight-pointed star with a lightning bolt flashes on the screen. My mouth goes dry. I don’t want to let go of Tomas’s hand, but I convince each finger to uncurl. I move away from the strength Tomas’s presence has lent me, and I stand. Hoisting my bag onto my shoulder, I touch each one of my friends—Tomas, Zandri, Will, Nicolette—on the cheek as I pass.

When I walk into the hallway, I can’t help feeling a small burst of relief at the face waiting for me. Michal. His expression is stern, but I can see a spark of pride that I am still here. Or maybe I am just imagining that because, when he asks me to follow, his tone is formal. As though we have never met.

We take the elevator to the first floor and exit left down a long gray hallway. At the end of the hall, we stop in front of a large gray door. “This is the Testing storeroom,” Michal says. “Each Testing candidate is allowed ten minutes inside this room. During that time you will select three additional items to help you successfully complete this test. I will log your choices as you make them. At this time, I am supposed to remind you to choose carefully. Your choices can mean the difference between success and failure. Of course, I doubt you would have made it this far if you hadn’t already figured that out.”

This time I am certain I don’t imagine the glint of pride in his eyes. He tells me my ten minutes start when I open the door. I take a deep breath and turn the handle.

Outdoor clothing. Sensible shoes. Food. Compasses. First-aid bags. Travel gear. Fire-making kits. Fishing poles. Knives. Guns. And more. Everything you could need to stay alive. And I am allowed to take only three.

I feel Michal’s presence behind me as I walk slowly past tables, racks, and shelves stacked with life-sustaining items. Once again, I am grateful for my broken-in boots. Most girls will need to exchange their fashionable footwear for something they can hike in. My thievery in the dining hall also has paid off. While a half dozen apples, rolls, and bags of dried fruit won’t get me all the way to Tosu City, I know I have enough to get me by—for now. So I ignore those options and study the rest. All of it seems necessary. I fee

l the time I am allotted for my selection ticking away as I try to decide what I really, truly need.

Tucked in the corner is a deep green bag with a small stamp that reads H2O. My hands pull the bag from the pile and investigate. Inside are two canteens filled with water and a small kit of the chemicals we used during the second test.

I think back to the map. The testing zone is large. I am certain the area must be filled with lakes, streams, and creeks, though they hadn’t been marked on the map. Between conversations with my father and Dr. Barnes’s words, I know most if not all of the designated Testing area has yet to be revitalized. That means the water within the boundaries is most likely contaminated in some way. Not all contaminations will kill, but many cause illness—especially in the tired and malnourished. I will risk both during this phase of The Testing. I will not risk dehydration as well.

One choice made.

Sliding the green bag onto my shoulder, I consider my other options. The tent with its rainproof fabric and insulated floor is oh so tempting. But just lifting the case makes the decision for me. While it doesn’t feel heavy now, there are more than seven hundred miles to travel. After the first ten the tent will feel more burden than blessing. Comfort must take a back seat to survival.

I skip by the compass since I have one on the Transit Communicator I borrowed from Zeen. I also skip past the knives and the fire-starting kits. I have the pocketknife I brought from home. I will make do. As for fire, it will take me a while to build one without the assistance of matches or flint, but I can do it. It is one of the first skills they teach new students in Five Lakes Colony. For the fire kits to be included here among the survival gear, I have to wonder if our small size and remote location made this a lesson unique to us.